murderer　was　not　wounded　at　all。　　Monsieur　Rouletabille；　the　murderer
  bled　at　the　nose！〃
  The　great　Fred　spoke　quite　seriously。　　However；　I　could　not　refrain
  from　uttering　an　exclamation。
  The　reporter　looked　gravely　at　Fred；　who　looked　gravely　at　him。
  And　Fred　immediately　concluded：
  〃The　man　allowed　the　blood　to　flow　into　his　hand　and　handkerchief；
  and　dried　his　hand　on　the　wall。　　The　fact　is　highly　important；〃　he
  added；　〃because　there　is　no　need　of　his　being　wounded　in　the　hand
  for　him　to　be　the　murderer。〃
  Rouletabille　seemed　to　be　thinking　deeply。　　After　a　moment　he
  said：
  〃There　is　something　…　a　something；　Monsieur　Frederic　Larsan；　much
  graver　than　the　misuse　of　logic　the　disposition　of　mind　in　some
  detectives　which　makes　them；　in　perfect　good　faith；　twist　logic　to
  the　necessities　of　their　preconceived　ideas。　　You；　already；　have
  your　idea　about　the　murderer；　Monsieur　Fred。　　Don't　deny　it；　and
  your　theory　demands　that　the　murderer　should　not　have　been　wounded
  in　the　hand；　otherwise　it　comes　to　nothing。　　And　you　have　searched；
  and　have　found　something　else。　　It's　dangerous；　very　dangerous；
  Monsieur　Fred；　to　go　from　a　preconceived　idea　to　find　the　proofs　to
  fit　it。　　That　method　may　lead　you　far　astray　Beware　of　judicial
  error；　Monsieur　Fred；　it　will　trip　you　up！〃
  And　laughing　a　little；　in　a　slightly　bantering　tone；　his　hands　in
  his　pockets；　Rouletabille　fixed　his　cunning　eyes　on　the　great　Fred。
  Frederic　Larsan　silently　contemplated　the　young　reporter　who
  pretended　to　be　as　wise　as　himself。　　Shrugging　his　shoulders；　he
  bowed　to　us　and　moved　quickly　away；　hitting　the　stones　on　his　path
  with　his　stout　cane。
  Rouletabille　watched　his　retreat；　and　then　turned　toward　us；　his
  face　joyous　and　triumphant。
  〃I　shall　beat　him！〃　he　cried。　　〃I　shall　beat　the　great　Fred；　clever
  as　he　is；　I　shall　beat　them　all！〃
  And　he　danced　a　double　shuffle。　　Suddenly　he　stopped。　　My　eyes
  followed　his　gaze；　they　were　fixed　on　Monsieur　Robert　Darzac；　who
  was　looking　anxiously　at　the　impression　left　by　his　feet　side　by
  side　with　the　elegant　footmarks。　　There　was　not　a　particle　of
  difference　between　them！
  We　thought　he　was　about　to　faint。　　His　eyes；　bulging　with　terror；
  avoided　us；　while　his　right　hand；　with　a　spasmodic　movement；
  twitched　at　the　beard　that　covered　his　honest；　gentle；　and　now
  despairing　face。　　At　length　regaining　his　self…possession；　he　bowed
  to　us；　and　remarking；　in　a　changed　voice；　that　he　was　obliged　to
  return　to　the　chateau；　left　us。
  〃The　deuce！〃　exclaimed　Rouletabille。
  He；　also；　appeared　to　be　deeply　concerned。　　From　his　pocket…book　he
  took　a　piece　of　white　paper　as　I　had　seen　him　do　before；　and　with
  his　scissors；　cut　out　the　shape　of　the　neat　bootmarks　that　were　on
  the　ground。　　Then　he　fitted　the　new　paper　pattern　with　the　one　he
  had　previously　made　…　the　two　were　exactly　alike。　　Rising；
  Rouletabille　exclaimed　again：　〃The　deuce！〃　　Presently　he　added：
  〃Yet　I　believe　Monsieur　Robert　Darzac　to　be　an　honest　man。〃　　He
  then　led　me　on　the　road　to　the　Donjon　Inn；　which　we　could　see　on
  the　highway；　by　the　side　of　a　small　clump　of　trees。
  CHAPTER　X
  We　Shall　Have　to　Eat　Red　Meat　…　Now〃
  The　Donjon　Inn　was　of　no　imposing　appearance；　but　I　like　these
  buildings　with　their　rafters　blackened　with　age　and　the　smoke　of
  their　hearths　…　these　inns　of　the　coaching…days；　crumbling　erections
  that　will　soon　exist　in　the　memory　only。　　They　belong　to　the　bygone
  days；　they　are　linked　with　history。　　They　make　us　think　of　the　Road；
  of　those　days　when　highwaymen　rode。
  I　saw　at　once　that　the　Donjon　Inn　was　at　least　two　centuries　old
  …　perhaps　older。　　Under　its　sign…board；　over　the　threshold；　a　man
  with　a　crabbed…looking　face　was　standing；　seemingly　plunged　in
  unpleasant　thought；　if　the　wrinkles　on　his　forehead　and　the　knitting
  of　his　brows　were　any　indication。
  When　we　were　close　to　him；　he　deigned　to　see　us　and　asked　us；　in　a
  tone　anything　but　engaging；　whether　we　wanted　anything。　　He　was；　no
  doubt；　the　not　very　amiable　landlord　of　this　charming　dwelling…place。
  As　we　expressed　a　hope　that　he　would　be　good　enough　to　furnish　us
  with　a　breakfast；　he　assured　us　that　he　had　no　provisions；　regarding
  us；　as　he　said　this；　with　a　look　that　was　unmistakably　suspicious。
  〃You　may　take　us　in；〃　Rouletabille　said　to　him；　〃we　are　not
  policemen。〃
  〃I'm　not　afraid　of　the　police　…　I'm　not　afraid　of　anyone！〃　replied
  the　man。
  I　had　made　my　friend　understand　by　a　sign　that　we　should　do　better
  not　to　insist；　but；　being　determined　to　enter　the　inn；　he　slipped
  by　the　man　on　the　doorstep　and　was　in　the　common　room。
  〃Come　on；〃　he　said；　〃it　is　very　comfortable　here。〃
  A　good　fire　was　blazing　in　the　chimney；　and　we　held　our　hands　to
  the　warmth　it　sent　out；　it　was　a　morning　in　which　the　approach　of
  winter　was　unmistakable。　　The　room　was　a　tolerably　large　one；
  furnished　with　two　heavy　tables；　some　stools；　a　counter　decorated
  with　rows　of　bottles　of　syrup　and　alcohol。　　Three　windows　looked
  out　on　to　the　road。　　A　coloured　advertisement　lauded　the　many
  merits　of　a　new　vermouth。　　On　the　mantelpiece　was　arrayed　the
  innkeeper's　collection　of　figured　earthenware　pots　and　stone　jugs。
  〃That's　a　fine　fire　for　roasting　a　chicken；〃　said　Rouletabille。
  〃We　have　no　chicken　…　not　even　a　wretched　rabbit；〃　said　the
  landlord。
  〃I　know；〃　said　my　friend　slowly；　〃I　know　…　We　shall　have　to　eat　red
  meat　…　now。〃
  I　confess　I　did　not　in　the　least　understand　what　Rouletabille　meant
  by　what　he　had　said；　but　the　landlord；　as　soon　as　he　heard　the　words；
  uttered　an　oath；　which　he　at　once　stifled；　and　placed　himself　at　our
  orders　as　obediently　as　Monsieur　Robert　Darzac　had　done；　when　he
  heard　Rouletabille's　prophetic　sentence　…　〃The　presbytery　has　lost
  nothing　of　its　charm；　nor　the　garden　its　brightness。〃　　Certainly　my
  friend　knew　how　to　make　people　understand　him　by　the　use　of　wholly
  incomprehensible　phrases。　　I　observed　as　much　to　him；　but　he　merely
  smiled。　　I　should　have　proposed　that　he　give　me　some　explanation；
  but　he　put　a　finger　to　his　lips；　which　evidently　signified　that　he
  had　not　only　determined　not　to　speak；　but　also　enjoined　silence　on
  my　part。
  Meantime　the　man　had　pushed　open　a　little　side　door　and　called　to
  somebody　to　bring　him　half　a　dozen　eggs　and　a　piece　of　beefsteak。
  The　commission　was　quickly　executed　by　a　strongly…built　young　woman
  with　beautiful　blonde　hair　and　large；　handsome　eyes；　who　regarded
  us　with　curiosity。
  The　innkeeper　said　to　her　roughly：
  〃Get　out！　　…　and　if　the　Green　Man　comes；　don't　let　me　see　him。〃
  She　disappeared。　　Rouletabille　took　the　eggs；　which　had　been　brought
  to　him　in　a　bowl；　and　the　meat　which　was　on　a　dish；　placed　all
  carefully　beside　him　in　the　chimney；　unhooked　a　frying…pan　and　a
  gridiron；　and　began　to　beat　up　our　omelette　before　proceeding　to
  grill　our　beefsteak。　　He　then　ordered　two　bottles　of　cider；　and
  seemed　to　take　as　little　notice　of　our　host　as　our　host　did　of　him。
  The　landlord　let　us　do　our　own　cooking　and　set　our　table　near　one
  of　the　windows。
  Suddenly　I　heard　him　mutter：
  〃Ah！　…　there　he　is。〃
  His　face　had　changed；　expressing　fierce　hatred。　　He　went　and　glued
  himself　to　one　of　the　windows；　watching　the　road。　　There　was　no　need
  for　me　to　draw　Rouletabille's　attention；　he　had　already　left　our
  omelette　and　had　joined　the　landlord　at　the　window。　　I　went　with　him。
  A　man　dressed　entirely　in　green　velvet；　his　head　covered　with　a
  huntsman's　cap　of　the　same　colour；　was　advancing　leisurely；　lighting
  a　pipe　as　he　walked。　　He　carried　a　fowling…piece　slung　at　his　back。
  His　movements　displayed　an　almost　aristocratic　ease。　　He　wore
  eye…glasses　and　appeared　to　be　about　five　and　forty　years　of　age。
  His　hair　as　well　as　his　moustache　were　salt　grey。　　He　was　remarkably
  handsome。　　As　he　passed　near　the　inn；　he　hesitated；　as　if　asking
  himself　whether　or　no　he　should　enter　it；　gave　a　glance　towards　us；
  took　a　few　whiffs　at　his　pipe；　and　then　resumed　his　walk　at　the　same
  nonchalant　pace。
  Rouletabille　and　I　looked　at　our　host。　　His　flashing　eyes；　his
  clenched　hands；　his　trembling　lips；　told　us　of　the　tumultuous
  feelings　by　which　he　was　being　agitated。
  〃He　has　done　well　not　to　come　in　here　to…day！〃　he　hissed。
  〃Who　is　that　man？〃　asked　Rouletabille；　returning　to　his　omelette。
  〃The　Green　Man；〃　growled　the　innkeeper。　　〃Don't　you　know　him？　　Then
  all　the　better　for　you。　　He　is　not　an　acquaintance　to　make。　…　Well；
  he　is　Monsieur　Stangerson's　forest…keeper。〃
  〃You　don't　appear　to　like　him　very　much？〃　asked　the　reporter；
  pouring　his　omelette　into　the　frying…pan。
  〃Nobody　likes　him；　monsieur。　　He's　an　upstart　who　must　once　have
  had　a　fortune　of　his　own；　and　he　forgives　nobody　because；　in　order
  to　live；　he　has　been　compelled　to　become　a　servant。　　A　keeper　is　as
  much　a　servant　as　any　other；　isn't　he？　　Upon　my　word；　one　would　say
  that　he　is　the　master　of　the　Glandier；　and　that　all　the　land　and
  woods　belong　to　him。　　He'll　not　let　a　poor　creature　eat　a　morsel　of
  bread　on　the　grass　his　grass！〃
  〃Does　he　often　come　here？〃
  〃Too　often。　　But　I've　made　him　understand　that　his　face　doesn't
  please　me；　and；　for　a　month　past；　he　hasn't　been　here。　　The　Donjon
  Inn　has　never　existed　for　him！　…　he　hasn't　ha